


coping

by Falmine



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Autistic Caboose, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, this was a wild ride to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7553164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falmine/pseuds/Falmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caboose copes with 'Church's' death in an odd way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coping

Everyone copes differently.

Some cope with tears, some with anger, some with music, some don’t have to cope, and just let it go. How they do that, however, is a mystery to all the rest of us. They try to explain, but it just goes in one ear and out the other.

Caboose always had trouble coping. It was just who he was, part of the way his brain functioned. He always held onto a scrap of hope, no matter how small it may be. This time was no different. Epsilon may have been gone, but that wasn’t going to stop Caboose from hoping. No one would take that away from him.

He started acting different. Carolina noticed it first, she felt partially guilty for Epsilon’s death and had promised herself to watch over the rest of the Blues like a mother would. So far, however, she was struggling. Washington slept even less, Tucker barely came out of his room, and Caboose?

Caboose seemed almost normal. For someone that hadn’t known him for long, he would have seemed just like his normal self. He acted, talked, and behaved the same ways. But Carolina would look out the window some nights, and swear she could make out the outline of the blue soldier sitting on the cliffside. 

And then Caboose started eating less. He used to eat whatever was made for him in the morning, but he started telling Carolina he “wasn’t hungry” and just left the base. Carolina brushed it off the first couple times, but she couldn’t help but worry after the eleventh or twelfth time.

Washington was the next one to notice, but he didn’t notice anything until the first time he caught Caboose in the kitchen at midnight, gathering some things from the fridge. After scolding him, he got curious as to why the food was being taken. When asked, Caboose just told him,

“I am waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Washington asked, but Caboose refused to speak anymore. He put the things back in the fridge and went back to his room. Washington had been so deeply perturbed by the short conversation, he woke Carolina up to tell her what had happened. She told him not to worry, Caboose usually didn’t make sense, especially not at this hour.

But still Washington worried. And he was right to worry, because not even a week after that encounter, the Blues woke up, not to the usual, peppy Caboose, but a note, scribbled in coloured pencil.

“dear friends, I am leaving to go find church. don’t come looking for me, i have gone very far. - ~~cabose~~ caboose”

Of course, no one followed the instructions. Immediately, the three split up to search. Washington calmed them with words such as “He couldn’t have gone far”, or “He wouldn’t leave us all alone, he’ll be back”. But hours of searching turned into days, and days turned into weeks. Nothing. No sign of him anywhere.

In fact, it wasn’t until a whole month later did they find him, sleeping in a hollowed out tree, using the backpack Tucker had given him long ago as a pillow. Tucker was the one that actually found him, and he nearly killed him right then and there.

“What the fuck, Caboose! How could you just leave us like that?” Tucker’s words were harsh, but also desperate. Not that it mattered to Caboose, all he understood at this moment was Tucker’s anger.

It took all three of them to pry him out of the tree, Caboose protesting the whole time Carolina dragged him to the base. When they got there, he was yelled at again, this time by both freelancers and Tucker.

And Caboose broke down into tears. Desperate, miserable tears that made all three of the soldiers stop and just stare. They watched as Caboose unraveled, eventually running out of tears and instead letting out terrible, dry sobs, the kind that made his shoulders heave with every cry.

Washington was the first to get on his knees and wrap his arms around the sobbing man, narrowing his eyes at the others when they hesitated to do the same. Soon, they were all shushing and whispering words of comfort to the Caboose, Carolina taking his hand and squeezing it gently. 

No one asked why Caboose left until weeks after the incident, to which he just cocked his head to the side before smiling a sad little smile.

“I was looking for him! Church!” But his smile soon faded, and he curled his knees against his chest. “He’s not coming back this time, is he?” He whispered, expecting Carolina to confirm it. Instead, she took Caboose’s head in her hands and squeezed gently. 

“He’ll come back, Caboose. He always does.”


End file.
